


Dancing Function

by enbycupcake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Other, Trans Anakin Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-29
Updated: 2018-04-29
Packaged: 2019-04-29 13:13:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14473482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enbycupcake/pseuds/enbycupcake
Summary: Knowing her spouse needs some relaxation, Padmé arranges for Anakin to be taken to a function with Bail. There, the two dance.





	Dancing Function

**Author's Note:**

> Anakin is nonbinary!! Also, I wrote this little thing a month ago, so if you follow me on tumblr it isn't new.

The hand on their waist sears through them. Anakin’s hand tightens against their partner’s against their will, and molten lava swims through their core as the soft laugh rings out. Bail’s eyes catch theirs again softly, an answering tightening of his hand, as he twirls Anakin along the floor. Anakin wishes they could control what is surely the terrible flush on their face.

They’re pulled even closer, their chest coming flush with Bail’s. “You’re a lovely dancer, dearest. Are all Jedi as well prepared as you?”

“No,” they answer. “I learned with Padmé.”

Their wife had led them through the steps in idle nights they could carve out, terribly offkey humming from the both of them filling the apartment. Those are some of the fondest memories Anakin has of her, her grace and patience and attention, all on them.

Bail gives a sound of assent, his voice lowering to something intimate as his hand slides along their hip, dragging their dress. “She was an excellent teacher.”

“She was,” Anakin agrees as Bail twirls them. A giggle bursts forth from them at the action, and they’re met with even warmer eyes once Bail secures them in his arms again. “I’d be stepping on your toes if not.”

Anakin’s never seen such a fond smile on someone’s face directed at them from anyone but their wife. “I’ll send her a gift basket for her thoughtfulness. Do I have her to thank for the makeup and hair?”

“The makeup is all me.”

“It’s lovely.” Bail’s thumb rubs a little circle into their hips. “Hardly recognized you without your dashing scar.”

“It’s not even that big of a scar!”

They get an amused hum in response as they’re swayed. Anakin swallows and lets Bail continue to lead the dance. It’s nice, in his arms, the softness of the dress Padmé picked out for them on their skin and Bail’s hands slightly too tight for mere acquaintances. The faint lull of the melody in the air is dizzying, and Anakin closes their eyes as their feet move.

They’re guided along the dance floor, wisps of conversations mingling and the lights behind their eyelids swimming. Bail’s hands are branding on their hip and their hand. His growing desire slides along Anakin’s senses, casually whispering into the Force as Bail’s thoughts start and stop. Anakin finds they don’t mind it; the lust is careful, a promise instead of a threat. Bail feels like security, the way he’s looking and cataloging their body and mood like Padmé’s. Sighing at the thought of their wife, the way Padmé had tousled their hair and dabbed away the excess lipstick before handing them off, Anakin leans their body into the nook of Bail’s. He’s the one person Anakin thinks they can do this with; Anakin is taller than everyone else in his acquaintance.

The fabric of their dress rubs against their skin as the hand on their waist slides instead to their back. Bail’s head comes to rest against theirs, and Anakin inhales. Their bodies are pressed flush together, hands held tightly. Softly, Anakin nuzzles into their partner’s neck.

“Thank you for dancing with me.”

A kiss, the barest touch of lips, is pressed into their curls. “It’s my pleasure.”


End file.
